


Catch Me If You Can

by barbitone



Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [13]
Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Morally Ambiguous Character, POV Berenger (Captive Prince), Thief AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-13 14:53:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,598
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21496087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone
Summary: Eight months into chasing the jewel thief and forger they’d nicknamed Ruby, Berenger had finally managed to track him down not only to his hotel, but to his hotel room.Berenger’s team of nearly two dozen plainclothes police officers staked out the place and settled in to wait, Berenger himself sitting at the hotel bar where he had a good view of the front desk, nursing a single glass of whiskey while he held his phone in a tight grip, monitoring the situation while his heart pounded with excitement.The excitement faded as the hours dragged on towards midnight, then past it. By one in the morning they’d still had no sign of Ruby, or anyone even stepping remotely near his room.Now with a sequel:Catch and Release
Relationships: Ancel/Berenger (Captive Prince)
Series: Captive Prince Fanfiction [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1455904
Comments: 58
Kudos: 198





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Why yes, it's a Catch Me If You Can AU, unimaginatively titled... catch me if you can...
> 
> >.>

* * *

Eight months into chasing the jewel thief and forger they’d nicknamed Ruby, Berenger had finally managed to track him down not only to his hotel, but to his hotel room.

Berenger’s team of nearly two dozen plainclothes police officers staked out the place and settled in to wait, Berenger himself sitting at the hotel bar where he had a good view of the front desk, nursing a single glass of whiskey while he held his phone in a tight grip, monitoring the situation while his heart pounded with excitement.

The excitement faded as the hours dragged on towards midnight, then past it. By one in the morning they’d still had no sign of Ruby, or anyone even stepping remotely near his room.

_ Think he caught wind of us? _came the text from Parsins, Berenger’s partner.

Berenger checked the time- 1:15am.

_ I don’t think he’s coming, _ texted Lazar, one of the officers stationed outside. _ The streets are dead, anyway. Something tipped him off. _

“Damn it,” Berenger hissed, massaging his temples as he set his phone face down on the bar.

“Something the matter?” someone asked.

Berenger looked up to see a young man settling on the barstool beside him. He was strikingly beautiful, red-haired and lovely. His green eyes sparkled in the dim lighting of the bar, his creamy skin was practically glowing. He was dressed in a fine silk shirt and he had at least one ring on each finger. They glittered alluringly as he waved over the bartender.

There was only one reason someone who looked like _ that _would be interested in someone like Berenger.

“No thanks,” he muttered, looking down at his phone with a frown.

He considered what to do next. He felt like a complete fool for this waste of department funds. He could either call it quits or double down and waste his men’s time while he was at it. Orlant’s wife had given birth to twins just a week ago and Parsins was getting on in his years. He wasn’t cut out for sitting in a cold dark car for hours, not anymore.

The stranger tutted in disapproval. “I think what you meant to say was- can I buy you a drink, sweetheart.”

“I don’t make a habit of calling strangers sweetheart,” Berenger said, looking back at him. “And I don’t pay for sex, either.”

The stranger’s eyes widened in surprise before he laughed. It was an oddly disarming sound, full of delight. Berenger felt some of the tension easing from his shoulders despite himself.

“Don’t worry, I stopped turning tricks years ago,” the stranger said easily. “And if I hadn’t- a cop would be a pretty poor mark, don’t you think?”

“...Excuse me?” Berenger asked, completely thrown for a loop.

“What’ll you have?” the bartender asked.

“House red,” Ancel said easily, still smiling at Berenger beside him. “It’s on my friend here. What did you say your name was?”

“I didn’t say,” Berenger said. The bartender looked at him quizzically so Berenger nodded. “Put it on my tab.”

“Was that so hard, darling?” the stranger asked.

“How did you know I was a cop?”

“Well,” the stranger said, propping his chin up on his hand while he leaned on the bar. “You’re sitting alone at a hotel bar nursing a whiskey so full of ice it’s nearly water- can’t drink on the job, I imagine. And your department store suit is too cheap for a hotel like this- you’re not a guest. You’re wearing running shoes, and a crease in your jacket suggests a shoulder holster.”

“If you noticed all that, maybe you should be on the force yourself,” Berenger said, a little stunned.

The stranger laughed again, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially. “It was easy to piece together after I saw the corner of your badge on your belt, while I was checking out your cock.”

Berenger choked a little on his drink while the stranger simply smiled indulgently.

The bartender came over with a glass of wine, setting it down on the bar with a quiet clink.

“My name is Ancel,” the stranger said, holding out his hand.

“Berenger,” he answered and took it. Ancel had a firm grip. His palm was smooth and warm, the rings a hard contrast.

“So are you still on the job? Or would you like to take me upstairs?”

“I-” Berenger said, flustered. His phone buzzed and he looked down at it, abruptly brought back to reality. 

His men were asking for orders. The sting had been a bust and there was no sense keeping them waiting. He told most of them to go home. There were still two officers stationed in Ruby’s room in case he came back after all, but the others might as well get some rest.

That done, he looked back into Ancel’s beautiful green eyes, watching expectantly.

“You’re right that I’m not a guest here. I don’t have a room.” It was easier than saying yes. It was impossible to say no.

“So get one,” Ancel said, taking a delicate sip of wine.

Berenger licked his lips uncertainly. He really shouldn’t be doing this. But technically as of a minute ago, he was no longer on duty. And it had been so long since he’d gotten laid. And Ancel was so beautiful.

“We could go to yours,” he suggested.

“I’d love to,” Ancel said, “but my sister’s already asleep upstairs. As naughty as it would be to try and fuck without waking her up- I’m afraid I can be a little loud.”

Berenger swallowed, hard. This was such a bad idea.

Ancel set his glass down on the bar and leaned closer, sliding his hand to the back of Berenger’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. It started chaste but before he knew it Ancel’s hands were gliding down his back and his tongue was in Ancel’s mouth.

“Time to settle up, yeah?” the bartender asked with a laugh as he dropped Berenger’s credit card on the counter, along with the bill.

“Yeah,” Berenger said, a little dazed as Ancel pulled away, holding Berenger’s gaze as he licked his lips.

“Yeah,” Berenger repeated, a little nonsensically, forcing himself to look down at the check and adding a tip before signing it in a rush and stuffing his card in his pocket.

Ancel followed him to the front desk as he got a room, and then they were kissing in the elevator on the way up to the fifth floor, where Berenger’s hands were shaking so hard he had to try three times before he could get the door open.

“Shower?” Ancel asked breathlessly and Berenger could only nod.

They undressed in a hurry, getting in each other’s way more than they helped as they groped one another. Berenger couldn’t get enough of Ancel. He kissed like he was starving for it, moaning loudly and enthusiastically every time Berenger did something he liked.

Finally they managed to make their way into the shower, running soapy fingers over each other’s bodies. Berenger wanted to taste every inch of Ancel so he did- starting at his mouth and making his way down his neck, his shoulders, his chest. He dropped to his knees to suck his cock, then turned him around so he was facing the wall and ate him out while Ancel trembled above him, scrambling for purchase on the slick tiles.

With the way he was moaning Berenger had a feeling he could make Ancel come just from that, and the thought was heady.

“Bed,” Ancel said insistently so Berenger forced himself to pull away, breathing hard for a moment before standing.

They made it to the bed in a haze of kissing and groping, Ancel pausing for a moment to get a small bottle of lube out of the pocket of his discarded trousers.

“I see you came prepared,” Berenger teased, pushing Ancel down into the sheets.

“I wanted a good fuck,” Ancel said flippantly. “I’m still wanting.”

“Don’t worry,” Berenger said, watching as Ancel arranged himself in bed on his stomach, spreading his legs invitingly. “I’ll take care of you.”

His thoughts went quiet for a while after that as he opened Ancel up and pushed inside, groaning at the first thrust, the hot slide into Ancel’s eager body. Ancel moaned too, clutching the sheets with one hand and reaching back to grab Berenger’s hip with the other, urging him on.

Berenger fucked him slowly, savoring every moment, every involuntary moan and gasp that fell from Ancel’s lovely lips. It was incredible, how easily Ancel took it, how he pleaded for more. They finished, spectacularly, together. When he moved to pull back Ancel tightened his grip on his hip with a little moan.

“Wait,” he whispered. “Just- wait. I want to go again.”

Berenger closed his eyes with a shudder and kissed the back of Ancel’s neck, his shoulders, all while still inside him. The heat and the pressure was nearly too much for his oversensitive cock but he didn’t move, waiting. When he was ready he fucked Ancel again.

Afterwards Berenger felt like putty as he lay on his back with Ancel curled up against him, running his fingertips teasingly over his chest.

“Don’t go to sleep,” Ancel murmured, pressing a kiss to Berenger’s chest. “Not yet.”

“You’re insatiable,” Berenger said, fond and more than a little amazed. He wasn’t old by any measure, but he wasn’t exactly _ young _any more either. The last time he’d gone three rounds in one night had been nearly a decade ago, but Ancel was undeniably a source of erotic inspiration.

“Getting tired?” Ancel asked with a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ll do all the work.”

They spent ages kissing lazily the way Berenger hadn’t done since he was in college. It was a slow meandering exploration of lips and tongues, hands wandering without any real intent other than the pure animal pleasure of closeness and touch.

When he was hard again Ancel straddled his hips and rode his cock like a champion, back arched and hair a glorious halo around his ecstatic face. He was still wearing his rings and they left imprints in Berenger’s skin where Ancel clutched at his shoulders to brace himself as he moved. 

Somehow that was erotic too and Berenger was helpless to resist anything about the strange wild mystery that was Ancel.

In the morning Berenger woke alone to a short note left on the pillow beside him-

_ That was fun, darling _

_ xoxo _

_ Ancel _

* * *

The guilt didn’t hit full force until he was walking into the station in last night’s clothes with stubble on his face and a paper cup of cheap coffee in his hand. 

He still didn’t know what the hell he’d been _ thinking _ last night. But it had been late, and he’d been so frustrated by his ruined investigation, and no one had ever come on to him as brazenly as Ancel had. No one so lovely and intriguing had ever wanted him, and-

And there was no excuse for it, not really. But he could put it behind him now, and only think of Ancel in his most private moments.

“Rough night?” Orlant asked with a sympathetic wince.

“...Yes,” Berenger said, trying not to blush. At least his boring wardrobe meant that no one asked him why he was wearing last night’s clothes. Everyone knew he had six copies of this same exact suit.

“It wasn’t a complete bust,” Parsins said. “We searched Ruby’s room, found a few of his fake IDs. At least now we’ll know what he looks like.”

Berenger perked up at that, heading for the conference room where they kept all the details of the case. There was a new crate on the table, the items recovered from Ruby’s room. The crate contained various equipment, jewelers tools and lockpicks, random knick knacks that would all need to be dusted for prints. In front of it were three passports- one Canadian, one French, and one American. Berenger reached for the closest one and flipped it open.

He felt like he’d been punched in the gut as he stared at a familiar pair of green eyes.

Ancel.

_ Fuck. _ He’d had Ruby- _ literally- _in his grasp and had let him go. 

They’d fucked. Oh god. They’d-

He could lose his badge over this. But he hadn’t known. He couldn’t have-

Berenger’s heart sank as he recalled the vivid image of Ancel waving over the bartender, the way Ancel’s rings had glittered on his fingers. He’d been wearing an emerald ring on his pinky, the main stone surrounded by tiny diamonds in the shape of little leaves. 

Berenger had a photo of that very ring on his desk, clipped together with a few others in a stack of insurance documents. It had been stolen from a jewelry store on main street and replaced with a fake. He should have recognized the ring and figured the whole thing out but he’d been thinking with his cock instead of his head and he’d missed it like some complete _ amateur. _

But he could still come clean. He could come clean right now, and-

They’d take him off the case. Eight months down the drain. And he had an advantage now, didn’t he? Now that he’d met Ancel face to face?

“I know he’s cute, but get it together,” Lazar joked.

Berenger swallowed and looked up to see the rest of the team watching him oddly.

This was the moment. He had to tell them the truth now. It would come out eventually and then his career would be over. But if he just told them now he’d probably only get a slap on the wrist and be taken off the case. Ruby’s case. _ Ancel’s _case.

“Good work,” he said, hearing himself as though from a great distance. “Now that we know what he looks like it’ll make catching him that much easier.”

_ Catching him. _ Berenger had imagined the moment so many times. He’d imagined some balding middle aged man in glasses, stammering and pleading while Berenger put cuffs on him and shoved him into the back of his police car.

Except now it was Ancel- beautiful impossible Ancel- and he wasn’t stammering while Berenger cuffed him. He was smirking and tilting his head to the side to reveal his elegant neck in invitation-

Berenger cleared his throat awkwardly, taking a too-large sip of coffee and fighting to choke it down instead of spitting it all over the desk and Ancel’s fake passports.

“Maybe you should take the day,” Parsins said. “You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” Berenger said stiffly. The team only looked more shocked. He realized belatedly that he’d never taken a day off in his working life. Even when a suspect had shot him in the arm he was back the next day filling out reports and doing desk duty until he was cleared to go back into the field.

It was too late to take it back now.

“I need to- look at this with fresh eyes,” he said. It was a weak excuse if he’d ever heard one. “I- I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow’s Saturday,” Lazar said.

Every word out of Berenger’s mouth was making this somehow worse. He shut his mouth and nodded awkwardly before walking away.

* * *

Berenger spent the weekend oscillating between panic and arousal as he thought about the night he’d spent with Ancel. By the time he returned to work he’d reached a sort of uneasy acceptance about the situation.

It wasn’t too late to tell the truth, but Berenger couldn’t risk getting taken off the case. It was personal now. Ancel had known who he was, or close enough to it. He must have noticed the undercover cops and gone to the bar to avoid going up to his room, and he’d said right away he’d known Berenger was law enforcement.

Maybe he didn’t realize Berenger was the detective in charge of his case, but he knew Berenger was involved. Maybe he thought he could get some insider info about the progress they’d made in tracking him down, but he hadn’t _ asked _about any of it, not even in a roundabout way. They really hadn’t spoken much at all except for some breathless nonsense, teasing and laughter, nothing of any substance.

Berenger had checked all of his things in the morning. Nothing was missing, not even a single penny from his wallet. His phone was password protected; his messages didn’t show up on the lock screen. It was highly unlikely that Ancel had been able to get anything out of it. Berenger changed all his passwords just to be sure.

He tried to act normally as the case progressed. He managed it for all of a month before his cell rang near the end of the day- an unknown number.

“Berenger,” he said as he answered it.

_ “Hello, darling.” _

Berenger froze.

Something about his expression must have given away what was happening because the officers around him paused to stare, the room growing silent. Parsins set down his coffee cup with a quiet clink.

Berenger closed his eyes, trying to breathe slowly. Was this an attempt at blackmail, or-

_ “Relax,” _ Ancel said in a voice as smooth as honey and just as sweet. _ “What happened at the hotel is just between us, this is about something else. Put me on speakerphone, or whatever it is you people do.” _

“Alright,” Berenger said, putting him on speakerphone.

_ “Don’t bother tracing this call,” _ Ancel said. _ “I’ll be long gone before you can get to me.” _

“What is this about?” Berenger asked as everyone drew closer, captivated.

_ “You’ve heard of a man named Govart?” _

“Yes.” Govart was a vicious enforcer for the Regency gang- a notoriously elusive organization that smuggled drugs and other contraband. Worst of all- they trafficked children.

_ “I know where he’ll be, tomorrow night at five pm.” _Ancel rattled off an address while half a dozen police officers frantically jotted it down.

“How did you get this information?”

_ “He hired me to forge some documents for him so he could flee the country. We had a meeting planned. Obviously I’m not going to be there.” _

“Why are you telling me this?”

_ “Because he’s a monster.” _ Ancel paused, his breathing quiet but somehow anxious. _ “Berenger,” _ he said, his voice dropping into something low and trembling. _ “If you fuck this up, he’s going to kill me. Do you understand? He’ll kill me. Slowly.” _

“I won’t fuck it up,” Berenger said. “I’ll take care of it.” He flushed as he remembered saying something similar in an entirely different situation. _ I’ll take care of you. _

Ancel laughed, light and delighted, just like he’d laughed back at the hotel. _ “I knew I could count on you, darling. Ciao.” _

There was a loud click and the line went dead.

“Holy shit,” Lazar muttered.

“That was him?” Orland asked. “Ruby?”

Parsins stared at him with suspicion and disapproval as the room exploded into chaos.

* * *

They caught Govart.

Berenger watched from behind the one way glass as Laurent, the head of vice, interrogated him personally and with great prejudice.

Laurent and his team had been chasing down the Regency gang for years now without much luck, and this was the biggest break they’d ever had. 

Ancel called a few more times, turning in various hardened criminals.

“He’s treating us like his personal guard dogs,” Parsins said in disgust after the fourth criminal turned out to be a man who’d ripped Ancel off. He’d also been involved in racketeering and was suspected for murder, so Berenger didn’t feel too badly used by arresting him.

“Do we leave this scum on the streets just to inconvenience him, then?” Lazar asked, saving Berenger from having to say it.

Parsins scowled.

“Every time he initiates contact we get closer to finding him,” Berenger said firmly. These days he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about the prospect.

It was November when they’d finally managed to track Ancel down again to another swanky hotel. Berenger kept his people well back so Ancel wouldn’t get tipped off, watching the lobby through the security feed.

The distinctive flash of red hair never came, but at around eleven pm he spotted a slender man in a fashionable camel hair coat strolling towards the elevators. The young man had dark hair pulled back into a ponytail and was wearing a thick scarf around his neck. There was something familiar about the way he walked and Berenger inhaled sharply.

“There,” he said, pointing at the screen.

_ “Him?” _Parsins asked incredulously. Of course- he only knew Ancel from his passport photos. There was no way he would have recognized him like this- from grainy hotel security footage with black hair and his face half hidden behind a scarf. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” Berenger said, already standing to leave the surveillance van. “All units, move in.”

Orlant stayed behind to monitor the security feeds while Berenger walked into the hotel, Parsins and Lazar following closely.

_ “He got off at the eighth floor,” _Orlant muttered through their earpieces.

“Got it,” Berenger said, heading for the elevators.

They were in the hall when the fire alarm went off and Berenger swore. “He knows we’re here.”

Bleary hotel guests were already starting to poke their heads out of their rooms, looking around for the fire.

“He’s running,” Berenger said, looking around frantically.

There were two stairwells, one on each side of the hall. He sent Parsins back to the elevators and Lazar to the nearest staircase, dashing across the hall to the farther one. The stairwell was empty, for now. Was Ancel above him or below?

The only exits were on the ground floor so Berenger headed downwards.

He’d only gone down one flight of stairs when the door on the landing slammed open and someone barreled into him.

Berenger gasped and grabbed the man by the shoulders to try and steady them both, ending up with his back against the wall as he stared at Ancel in front of him.

Ancel stared back, his green eyes wide with shock. His cheeks were flushed, his lips parted as he panted. He’d braced himself against Berenger’s chest, gripping him by the lapels of his jacket.

Berenger got his wits about him first, grabbing his cuffs and putting one around Ancel’s wrist and the other around his own, locking them together.

Ancel looked down at the gleaming metal. When he looked back up he was grinning.

Berenger opened his mouth to read him his rights except Ancel was surging forward and kissing him. It was like the breath was knocked out of him, along with any semblance of reason. Berenger reached behind himself to grip the railing of the stairs, dragging Ancel’s hand, cuffed to his, with him. The motion brought their chests flush together and Ancel laughed breathlessly before biting his lower lip.

“Ancel,” Berenger managed but he couldn’t think straight like this- with Ancel against him.

They had to stop this. Any minute now someone would come along and catch them making out in the stairwell like horny teenagers. Instead of pushing Ancel away Berenger found himself burying his free hand in Ancel’s hair.

Ancel moaned and Berenger finally managed to get his wits about him, pulling away.

“Ancel,” he panted.

“It’s good to see you again, darling,” Ancel said with a wink and stepped back out of Berenger’s reach.

Berenger started after him only draw up short at the sharp tug on his wrist. He looked down in confusion. Somehow Ancel had managed to get out of the cuff and had locked Berenger to the railing instead.

Ancel was already turning away and Berenger reached for him desperately, just managing to grab the end of his sleeve. Ancel simply shrugged out of his coat with an easy laugh.

“Better luck next time,” he said, taking off down the stairs.

Berenger growled in frustration, left locked to the railing with nothing but a coat and a hard-on to show for their encounter. He rummaged through his pockets for the keys to his cuffs, only to find them empty. Ancel had stolen them.

He cursed, kneeling to fish out the backup set he kept in his boot. He was losing valuable time with this nonsense but finally he was free and taking the stairs three at a time. 

The lobby was full of guests shuffling out and Berenger climbed up on the front desk to look out over the crowd.

“Sir!” an affronted employee said, trying to get his attention. “Sir! You can’t be up there-“

There was no sign of Ancel’s dark hair or distinctive gait, his silk shirt or scarf. Berenger could feel it in his gut, he wasn’t in the crowd. He must have gone out the back instead.

He went through the kitchens and out into an alley, where Parsins and half a dozen police officers were already milling about awkwardly. 

It was snowing, a faint layer building up on the ground.

“Sir,” one of the officers said when they saw him bursting outside. “We saw him come out here but then he disappeared-“

Berenger strode forward, shoving Ancel’s coat towards the nearest cop as he took in the scene. The alley was empty except for a dumpster with a few trash cans beside it. There was a scuff mark on one of them, a slight dent in the lid. The wall behind them was two stories high, and the snow on the roof seemed disturbed.

Maybe it wasn’t too late.

Berenger ignored the questions of his men as he stepped up on the trash can and then to the closed lid of the dumpster. The old brick wall had plenty of handholds and he climbed up easily, pulling himself up and over onto the roof.

There was a trail of footsteps in the freshly fallen snow and Berenger followed them across one rooftop, then two, three. The trail ended abruptly and Berenger looked down at the busy intersection below. It was outside the police perimeter he’d set up.

Ancel could be anywhere by now.

He let himself stand there silently for a long moment as his heartbeat slowed, watching his breath come out in white puffs. He could still feel the press of Ancel’s lips against his own.

He hoped Ancel wasn’t cold without his coat.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to continue to be willfully ignorant of proper police procedure because otherwise idek

* * *

Ancel’s coat, at least, proved to be a valuable find in more ways than one. There was nearly a hundred thousand dollar’s worth of jewels and precious metals sewn into the lining, as well as a wallet with his latest fake ID and a bank card.

They managed to find one of Ancel’s accounts, which led them to a few known associates. They were nearly on him until the trail vanished again and they were left abruptly with nothing.

It was frustrating in the extreme and Berenger spent the rest of the month and much of the next combing through every bit of evidence they’d collected, reading through every transcript of every phone call and looking into every alias.

“Maybe you should go home,” Parsins said late one night and Berenger looked up to see the two of them were the last people in the room.

“I’m almost finished,” he said.

“It’s Christmas Eve,” Parsins said, his lips twisting downwards in disapproval.

Berenger managed to hide his surprise, but only just. He glanced down at his computer screen to see it was true- December 24th. That explained why everyone else was already gone.

“I’m heading out soon,” Berenger said. “Merry Christmas.”

“Right,” Parsins said with a nod. “Happy holidays.”

He left and Berenger looked back down at the papers strewn over his desk- the photocopies of Ancel’s passports and IDs. The photocopies were in black and white but when Berenger looked into Ancel’s eyes he saw emeralds.

He worked a while longer until the phone at his desk rang.

“Berenger,” he said absently, picking it up.

There was silence on the other end of the line and he straightened slowly. “Hello? Who-”

_ “Hi.” _

Berenger’s breath caught in his throat.

“Ancel.”

There was a soft laugh. _ “So I take it you’re alone at the office? Tragic, darling.” _

Berenger smiled despite himself, leaning back in his seat. “Calling to turn someone else in? A Christmas gift, perhaps.”

_ “Nothing so sordid. I didn’t really think you’d answer.” _

“Then why call?”

_ “I thought I’d leave a season’s greeting in your voicemail. What are you doing at the office so late, anyway? No Christmas dinner waiting for you?” _

“No,” Berenger said. His parents had died long ago and his sister lived overseas. His job took up most of his time; he didn’t have the opportunity to cultivate many friendships. “What are you up to?”

_ “Drinking alone at the hotel bar, I’m afraid.” _

“Tragic, darling,” Berenger drawled. “Tell me where you are and I’ll come join you.”

Berenger knew he should be tracing the call but somehow he couldn’t bring himself to move.

_ “Maybe another time,” _Ancel said with a laugh.

For a long while there was silence. Berenger didn’t know what else to say and Ancel didn’t seem particularly forthcoming. Ending the call was unthinkable. Berenger heard a soft sound like a click, perhaps the parting of lips. There was a sharp exhale, and then-

_ “Have you heard of the Christmas truce?” _

Berenger smiled. “During the first World War the British and German troops played football together in no-man’s land.”

_ “Yes,” _ Ancel said, his voice low and somehow relieved. _ “What if we…” _

“Called a truce? For the holidays?”

_ “Is that so crazy? I promise I won’t commit any crimes, and you’ll promise not to hunt me down. Not until the New Year.” _

Berenger smiled. It was silly and sentimental. It was somehow lovely.

“Alright,” he said.

_ “Alright,” _ Ancel breathed out. _ “Thank you. Ciao, darling.” _

There was a click as the phone call ended and Berenger exhaled sharply as he put the phone back on the hook. He looked down at his desk, Ancel’s photos looking back at him accusingly. He pushed himself back and stood, grabbing his coat to head home.

It was nine pm by the time he was in his building trudging towards his apartment. He nearly didn’t notice in his exhaustion, but just before he fit his key into the lock he drew up short.

There was light streaming out from under his door.

Berenger pulled out his gun before unlocking the door and opening it slowly. All the lights were on and the air smelled faintly of cinnamon and pine, something spicy and festive.

There was a sound from the kitchen like the clanking of glasses and Berenger raised his gun. “Who’s there?”

“Oh good, you’re home. Fancy some eggnog?”

Ancel walked out of the kitchen holding two mugs. He was dressed in a soft cashmere sweater and a pair of tight trousers, his hair cut short and fringe falling softly over his forehead, back to its natural shade of red.

He froze when he saw Berenger standing in the entryway with his gun raised and licked his lips, his eyes trained on the barrel.

“If I knew you hated eggnog this much, I would have brought wine.” His tone was jaunty but there was terror in his eyes. Berenger didn’t want him looking like that, not ever. Especially not at him. He lowered the gun, sliding it back into his shoulder holster. Ancel relaxed visibly, a smile spreading over his lovely lips once more.

“Ancel,” Berenger said. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” Ancel asked, setting the mugs down on the coffee table and stepping closer. “We have a truce, don’t we? Aren’t you a man of your word?”

“You know why not,” Berenger said shakily. Ancel’s presence seemed to fill the whole room with warmth and Berenger wanted him like he’d never wanted anyone or anything before.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” Ancel said, close enough to touch. He raised his hands to Berenger’s chest, his fingers glittering with stolen jeweled rings. Berenger swallowed heavily as he tried to keep his wits about him.

“We can’t be doing this,” he managed. Except his hand was already on the nape of Ancel’s neck and he was leaning closer, drawn to Ancel like a magnet.

Ancel’s arms were around his waist and then they were _ kissing, _desperately and passionately, as Berenger walked Ancel backwards towards the sofa. Berenger pushed him down to sit and knelt between his knees to suck him off while Ancel made the prettiest sounds, clutching at his short hair as he trembled, trying not to thrust up into his mouth. 

Afterwards they took it to the bedroom where Berenger fucked him until Ancel was sobbing and calling out his name. It was amazing, the best thing he’d ever done.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” Berenger muttered later, staring up at the ceiling while he pushed his fingers through Ancel’s hair.

“Mmm,” Ancel hummed, tightening his arm around Berenger’s waist. Ancel’s head was resting on his chest and he could feel Ancel’s slow even breaths against his sweat-damp skin. 

It was so difficult to be properly upset while Ancel was curled up naked against him. The fact that Ancel had dared come to Berenger’s apartment was somehow stunning. The trust he’d put into their silly truce was staggering. The trust he’d put in _ Berenger _was staggering.

“Did you know who I was?” Berenger asked. “Back at the hotel, that first time.”

Ancel laughed, propping himself up on Berenger’s chest to look at him. “Not until after I decided to fuck you. By the time I saw your badge I’d already been sitting down, and… well.”

“You could have left, or picked someone else.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“What are you doing?” Berenger asked. “What is this? Do you really…” _ want me? _

Instead of an answer Ancel only shrugged awkwardly and looked down, playing with Berenger’s chest hair so he could avoid his eyes.

“I like you,” he said at last. “You’re the best fuck I’ve had since- ever.”

Berenger laughed, taking Ancel’s chin to tilt his face for a kiss. There was more to it than that, surely. But he knew when not to push.

“This can’t last,” he said. “I _ will _catch you. Outside our truce. You’ll go to prison.”

“Maybe,” Ancel said with an easy shrug. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

“I _ will,” _ Berenger insisted. “Please- turn yourself in. I can go easy on you- you’ve helped us before so I doubt anyone will mind. Maybe I can say you were an informant, or- or- _ something. _End this, Ancel. Turn yourself in and I can help you.”

“Can’t you just- stop?” Ancel asked plaintively.

“No. Can you?”

Ancel bit his lip, pale and uncertain.

“I know it’s hard,” Berenger said, stroking Ancel’s hair to gentle him. “You’re not ready. Think about it. I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

* * *

The next seven days were spent in a blissful haze of fucking and fucking around. They watched old movies together cuddled close on the couch and ordered take-out. They didn’t talk about work and Berenger didn’t answer his calls and the air in his apartment smelled of cinnamon and eggnog and it was perfect.

It was the most lovely holiday Berenger had ever had- Ancel, laughing beside him, sighing in his arms, writhing on his cock. Perfect, perfect, perfect- so long as he didn’t think about his real life and why this was so horribly, terribly, _ wrong. _

On the morning of January first Berenger woke alone in bed without even a note. His heart sank, even though he’d known to expect this. Known to prepare for this.

Being alone again after spending so long with Ancel in his arms left him winded, his heart aching.

But it was what they’d agreed. What was right, given the current fucked up circumstances.

When the time came, Berenger went back to work and Ancel must have as well- seeing as how he had a fresh set of forgery cases on his desk.

It went on that way for a while longer and Berenger could only hope Ancel might have taken his advice to heart. He could only hope-

Until.

“Someone’s here for you, boss,” Lazar said, walking over to Berenger’s desk. “Says he’ll only talk to you.”

Berenger walked to the interrogation room, opening the door to find a young blonde sitting at the bare metal table. He was wearing a fluffy fur coat and pink sunglasses, and when he slipped the sunglasses down his face to glare at Berenger accusingly he had emerald eyes.

“Hello,” Berenger breathed out, sitting in the seat across from him, mindful of the cameras in the room.

“Hello,” Ancel said coldly. He pushed the sunglasses back up and leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “I thought you could help me, but I never thought you’d be so fucking _ stupid.” _

“What are you talking about?” Berenger asked, leaning forward too so he could keep his voice pitched low. “Have you come to…” _turn yourself in?_

“Obviously,” Ancel hissed. “But now- now, I-”

He sighed sharply and ran his hands through his short blonde hair.

“I’m in some real trouble, darling,” he whispered, his eyes darting around the room anxiously. “The Regency found out I was involved in- Govart. And- and other things. I thought I’d be safe here, but you- you’re _ working _with them-”

“What are you talking about?” Berenger asked sharply.

_ “Aimeric,” _Ancel hissed.

Aimeric was one of Laurent’s men, on the vice task force. It was only through sheer force of will that Berenger managed to keep from recoiling. It was possible that Ancel was lying, of course. But why bother? Why come here at all, risking arrest, if he was only going to lie?

“He’s one of _ them,” _ Ancel continued. “God. I shouldn’t have come. I shouldn’t have- I need to go. Do you understand? I came here, and I- I can’t be here anymore. They’ll figure it out. And- _ fuck.” _He dropped his head into his hands, shaking faintly. There was at least one ring on each finger, glittering in the harsh light of the interrogation room. “I can’t be here,” he muttered. “They’ll fucking kill me. What have I done?”

He made a small desperate sound deep in his throat like a sob. It made Berenger’s heart ache to hear it. Ancel was terrified. He’d come to the station to be safe and now he was terrified.

“I see,” Berenger announced loudly, standing. “Thank you for your testimony but I’m afraid it won’t be helpful at this time.”

Ancel looked up at him in shock and Berenger turned his face away from the cameras before giving Ancel a pointed look.

“I’ll escort you out, now,” he said.

Ancel stood too, uncertain and afraid. He wrapped his arms around his middle and Berenger walked around the table to take him by the shoulder, leaning close.

“Come on,” Berenger said. He wasn’t as good of a pickpocket as Ancel, so he figured Ancel probably felt it when he slipped his house keys into the pocket of Ancel’s big fluffy coat.

He felt like a madman as he escorted Ancel- _ Ruby, _the renowned jewel thief and forger- back out of the police station and onto the streets.

“Go,” he whispered into Ancel’s ear. “Take what you need and _ go. _Stay safe.”

“Thank you, officer,” Ancel said with a tight little nod before disappearing into the night.

* * *

Berenger didn’t hear much from Ancel after that. It was just as well- the internal investigation he launched took up enough of his attention. Aimeric was found to be working for the Regency gang, along with a handful of other officers.

The investigation took months, and by the end of it Berenger was exhausted.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t think of Ancel in every spare moment.

Once the internal inquiries were over- with a few significant arrests- Berenger put all of himself into tracking Ancel down.

There was no sign of him for a long time until he came across a few forgeries- a lavish ruby necklace and a few ruby rings. That was why they’d given him his nickname- rubies were his favorite jewels to forge.

The cases were in France and he soon came to find that the perpetrator had been caught. Berenger spent day and night jumping through hoops to talk to the French police, trying to learn about the case and the man that had been rotting in a Parisian prison for weeks now.

Berenger couldn’t bear the thought that it was Ancel- clever lovely _ Ancel- _trapped in a dank cell for all this time while Berenger was an ocean away.

It took weeks and a hefty dose of help from Laurent- still grateful for Berenger’s part in the internal investigation of the department- and his Senator brother Auguste before Berenger was storming through the halls of La Santé while an outraged French Inspector tried to lecture him about his _ jurisdiction. _

“Open it,” Berenger growled when they reached the cell door, damp with condensation and reeking of mildew.

“Now look here, monsieur,” the Inspector said indignantly.

There was a pained cough from inside and Berenger whirled on the Inspector with his eyes flashing with rage.

_ “Open it.” _

Something about his voice or maybe his expression had the mousy little man fumbling for his keys and then Berenger was striding into the dark room. It smelled horrible- like sweat and fear and _ blood _ and there was a figure curled up on the floor against the far wall.

It was too dark to make out the man’s features but Berenger knew in his gut who it was.

“Ancel,” he breathed out, walking forward and sinking to his knees.

Ancel coughed again, a horrible tortured sound. Berenger’s hands were shaking as he raised them to brush the greasy strands of hair out of Ancel’s face. It was long now, as long as it had been when they’d first met. The ragged ends were a dirty blond but the roots were red just like he remembered. Ancel’s skin was burning up, he had a fever.

Ancel blinked up at him slowly and Berenger didn’t know if Ancel recognized him.

“I’m here,” he said fiercely. “I’m so sorry I- but I’m here now. Everything’s going to be alright, I’m going to take you home.”

Ancel frowned. He was so horribly gaunt and pale. There were dark shadows under his eyes like bruises.

“I don’t know how they do things in America, monsieur,” the Inspector hissed. “But in _ France-” _

“Shove it,” Berenger said, rising to his feet and turning on the man. “What the fuck kind of conditions are these? He’s sick!”

“Calm yourself, monsieur!”

Berenger grabbed the man by the lapels of his jacket and shoved him hard against the damp stone wall. He reached into the pocket of his coat to pull out the extradition papers, slapping them against the man’s chest.

“Sign it,” he growled.

“Monsieur!”

_ “Sign it.” _Berenger didn’t recognize the sound of his own voice, full of rage and panic. “I won’t repeat myself.”

“I- I need my superior’s approval-”

“Then get it!” Berenger said, his voice rising until he was yelling. He let the useless worm of a man go, turning back to Ancel who was struggling to sit up.

“Easy,” Berenger whispered gently, sliding an arm under Ancel’s shoulders and the other under his knees. “Easy, sweetheart. You’ll be alright now. Everything’s going to be alright.”

“Berenger?” Ancel whispered hoarsely.

“Yes,” Berenger said with relief. “Yes, it’s me. Hold on now.”

Ancel wrapped his arms around Berenger’s neck and hid his face against Berenger’s shoulder, another round of coughing wracking his too-skinny frame and leaving him shaking.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the Inspector asked, having found his balls once more.

“I’m taking him to a hospital,” Berenger said. “Get the fuck out of my way.”

Thankfully there were no further complaints and Berenger got them out of the prison as quickly as he could and to the car waiting for them outside.

“Damn,” Lazar said, climbing out of the driver’s seat. “Ruby’s not looking so good.”

“Shut up and help me,” Berenger bit out.

“You got it, boss,” Lazar said, opening the back door. Between the two of them they got Ancel inside and Berenger sat beside him with Ancel’s head in his lap.

“Hospital,” Berenger said, stroking Ancel’s hair gently.

“Jesus,” Lazar said, getting back in the car and starting the engine. “Yeah. Obviously.”

Berenger stayed at Ancel’s bedside while he waited for the fever to break, holding his hand through most of it while Lazar and a French police officer were stationed at the door outside. It took days, and then he woke from a fitful nap to Ancel squeezing his hand weakly.

He looked up to see Ancel watching him. A nurse had washed him on the day they’d arrived and his hair was no longer matted and greasy. His eyes were clearer now, no longer hazy with fever and delirium. He was less pale, too. The IV fluids were doing their job.

“Hey there,” Berenger said, his voice cracking on the last word.

“So I guess it wasn’t a dream after all,” Ancel whispered.

“No,” Berenger said, forcing a smile. Ancel smiled too.

“You broke me out.”

Berenger laughed. The room was empty but for the two of them so he raised Ancel’s hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “Temporarily.”

“Oh,” Ancel said, relaxing against the pillows and closing his eyes with a little sigh. The rattle was gone from his lungs. “I hope you’ll put me in a nicer cage.”

“Much nicer, sweetheart.”

“What a bore,” Ancel muttered. And then- “I thought you didn’t make a habit of calling people sweetheart.”

“I said I didn’t call strangers that,” Berenger said, stroking Ancel’s knuckles with his thumb. Ancel’s fingernails were dirty and ragged. His hands looked oddly naked without all his rings. “But we’re not strangers, are we.”

“No,” Ancel said. “No, we’re not. I missed you, darling.”

Berenger exhaled sharply at the familiar endearment. Some of the worry he hadn’t known had been choking his heart eased. “I missed you too.”

* * *

After a tense phone call with Laurent in which he managed to sound as proud as he was annoyed, the extradition papers went through.

Berenger had Ancel transferred to a low security facility. He was looking much better by then, even going so far as to tease Lazar on the plane ride home. Lazar seemed to find him delightful, which was probably why he didn’t make a fuss when Ancel fell asleep on Berenger’s shoulder half-way across the Atlantic.

Berenger visited Ancel as often as he could- at least once a month but more frequently when he could get away with it. Ancel looked better each time. By the end of the first year he was wearing an emerald ring on his right middle finger and a gold band on his thumb. Berenger had no idea how he’d gotten the jewelry and didn’t ask. He just smiled when Ancel brushed his hair back- fashionably cut now and red all the way through- and the rings glittered in the harsh fluorescent lighting of the visitation room.

“You’re settling in quite well, I see.”

“Hardly,” Ancel moaned dramatically. “I’m so _ bored _I might perish.”

“Oh really,” Berenger said, reaching into his briefcase to pull out some case files. “Maybe this will be interesting then.”

Ancel perked up as he looked through the photos of a particularly well made forgery of a diamond tiara. “Good work,” he muttered. “I could do better. But still. It’s good work.”

“I’m sure you could,” Berenger said with an indulgent smile.

Ancel leaned back in his chair. Under the table he moved his foot so the toe of his shoe was touching Berenger’s. That was as much touch as they’d managed to get away with. It was pathetic how reassuring even that little was.

“It’s Rouart’s,” Ancel said confidently. “His little boyfriend is the best at diamonds. I don’t know his name but they’re always together.”

“Rouart,” Berenger repeated. It wasn't a name he'd heard before. “Care to be a little more forthcoming?”

“I don’t know, darling,” Ancel drawled with an insolent smirk. “What’s in it for me?”

“What do you want?”

“I’m overdue for a good fuck,” Ancel said easily. “How about a conjugal visit?”

“Ancel,” Berenger said in disapproval, trying to keep from flushing. It wasn’t possible, anyway. They’d have to be married for that.

Ancel laughed, throwing his head back. He had no right being so ridiculously composed. He was in _ prison. _

“How about cake, then,” Ancel countered.

“I think I can manage that much,” Berenger said.

Ancel gave him the address for a downtown club and Berenger had Rouart and his partner arrested within the week.

He came to Ancel with cases more often after that and Ancel always led him unerringly to the culprit. He either knew the responsible party outright or uncovered some clue Berenger had missed that ended up resulting in an arrest.

A few others in the department sent along their own casework too, their stats of solved cases rising through the roof. Berenger felt a little badly for benefiting off Ancel’s expertise that way, but at least that meant he got to visit more often and Ancel seemed to find the work a pleasant distraction from the drudgery of prison life.

It also meant that the prison guards gave them more leniency. Sometimes they were able to meet in a private room meant for inmates speaking with their lawyers. Sometimes Berenger could put his hand on Ancel’s back or his shoulder. Sometimes, very rarely, they could even sneak a kiss.

Two years into Ancel’s sentence Parsins retired at last and Berenger went through a string of replacement partners. They never seemed to last very long; they found him cold and rigid, disagreeable. A bore. He was used to that, but the background annoyance of dealing with someone new every few weeks was starting to grate on his nerves.

He was working on a particularly difficult case one afternoon when a shadow fell over his desk and he sat back with an annoyed sigh.

“What,” he bit out.

“Hello, darling.”

Berenger’s heart sped up. But he hadn’t imagined it. Ancel was _ here_, moving to perch on the edge of Berenger’s desk.

“Ancel?” Berenger asked, looking up at him. Ancel looked good. He was wearing a white silk shirt and tight high-waisted trousers, a fur coat draped over his shoulders. His hair was loose and red, shining beautifully, and he smelled sweet like the most expensive perfume. There were rings glittering on all his fingers. “How-?”

Ancel leaned back on the desk and set his foot on the seat of Berenger’s chair, between his legs and teasingly close to his groin. The movement pulled his pants leg up, revealing an electronic monitoring bracelet wrapped around his shapely ankle.

“I’m your new partner,” Ancel said, laughter in his voice.

The room was oddly silent. Out of the corner of his eye Berenger could see Laurent leaning against the doorframe to his office. His arms were crossed and Berenger could have sworn he saw him _ wink. _

Berenger was speechless.

“Well?” Ancel asked. He leaned down and put his index finger under Berenger’s chin to tilt his face up. He was smiling, his eyes glittering like emeralds. “Aren’t you going to kiss me hello?” he asked, and leaned in.

  
  


_ fin._

_ _

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr at [barbitone](http://barbitone.tumblr.com/) and pillowfort also at [barbitone](https://www.pillowfort.io/barbitone)

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Catch and Release](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22004755) by [barbitone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbitone/pseuds/barbitone)


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